My Journey

I started writing in 2016 with an online roleplay group inspired by one of my all-time favorite authors, Nalini Singh. Her stories—alongside the powerful worlds woven by Sherrilyn Kenyon, Patricia Briggs, Karen Marie Moning, Chloe Neill, Ilona Andrews, and Kevin Hearne—lit a fire in me. Their characters felt like home, their stories like maps I’d been missing. And suddenly, I couldn’t hold the stories in my head back anymore.
I wrote. I poured everything out.

But the world wasn’t ready for me—or so I was told.

People called my ideas weird, unusual, unsellable. My early drafts were torn apart by friends, family, and strangers alike. They said no one would ever want to read what I wrote.
So, for a while, I stopped.

Life needed the front seat. I was a single mom grinding through nursing school, trying to build a life. The stories had to wait.

But they never stopped whispering.

My books are the stories I always wished existed. The strange ones. The bold ones. The ones people told me wouldn’t work—but I wrote them anyway. Like Beverly Cleary once said, “If you don’t see the book you want on the shelf, write it.” So I did. Over and over again. Until they filled notebooks, hard drives, and my heart.

My readers are my compass. From alpha readers who help me shape the bones of a story, to beta readers who fine-tune its heartbeat, to the ARC readers who ride the waves before anyone else—I cherish every insight, every disagreement, every ounce of passion they bring. If my book isn’t your adventure, that’s okay. But if it is? Then it was always meant for you.

Whether I’m Sahara Lane for my sapphic romantics or Silver Levy for my fantasy fanatics, I don’t need to be famous. I just want to find my people. The ones who get it. The ones who needed that story that day to survive the world a little longer.

If I can be that story for you—then every late night, every rejection, every “you can’t” will have been worth it.